The Primordial Record

Chapter 1371  You Have Grown

Rowan knew that as he was outside of Doom Star, the shielding over that realm that could block the gaze of the powerful was gone, and he could be easily located, but he already had plans for this, and from the moment he banished the World Stele into the Nothingness he had been fleeing towards the one place that held extreme danger for him but was also the safest place he could hide—the Third-dimensional universe.

There were many reasons why this was the best choice for him, and the two major reasons were that, unlike higher dimensional immortals who could not enter a lower realm without destroying it, Rowan could simply assimilate the universe, becoming one with it, thereby bypassing the restriction imposed on high-level beings, and the second was the aura of Oblivion that was cloaking the lower realms, this was the greatest shield against any higher dimensional being that would attempt to locate him.

Of course, this meant that he was placing himself close to Primordial Chaos, but sometimes the safest place in a tornado was to be at the eye of the storm. The Primordials had not gone out of their way to hunt for lower-order beings since the end of the Primordial Era, and Rowan saw no reason why that should change drastically, despite the commotion rippling across reality at this time.

Inside his dimension, there were instances where great battles had broken out among the inhabitants, worlds were shattered and stars were stamped out, these were apocalyptic scenes that would shake the mind of any immortal inside his dimension, but for him, they could as well be meaningless, Rowan saw his situation in this manner when it was related to Primordials.

However, Rowan could not be any more wrong, perhaps his actions might be minuscule in the eyes of a Primordial, but he was a Breaker, and his act was the first step in setting off a chain of events that would shake the Supreme Era to the core.

®

The last time Rowan had roamed through reality with his Reflections, everything had been different.

In the lower dimensional realms, when a mortal looked at the sky, what they saw were stars and a myriad of heavenly bodies, but in the higher dimensional, you could only find stars inside a dimension if the creator wills it, but in the vast gulf of space that existed between dimensions there was the Frozen Road.

Looking at the bleak state of reality at this time, Rowan mourned a bit about its destruction, but that decision was out of his hands because the World Stele wanted its Primordial Essence returned to its host.

If there was anyone to blame for this mess it was Primordial Chaos. If this Primordial had truly wanted to make this road eternal, he would have used his essence to make it so, but it was rather interesting to consider the thought processes of Primordial Chaos and why he had chosen to make this road from the essence of Thenos instead of pulling it from his own stores of energy.

It would not come as a surprise to Rowan if the Primordial Chaos knew about the talents of the World Stele and its abilities to retrieve Primordial Essence, especially the essence that belonged to its host, and if Primordial Chaos had anticipated that one day the World Stele would return for this essence.

Such a thought no longer seemed far-fetched for Rowan any longer. The arrival of Primordial Time when the Eye of Time was taken to the limits of his existence was proof that every Primordial played the long game, and no single action they made could be considered as simple. There was an invisible war going on in the higher levels of reality, and like it or not, Rowan had dipped his toes inside that maelstrom of chaos, and he would have to adapt or he would be swept into playing a game where he did not even understand the rules, and his continual existence would be at the whims of the mighty.

Like it or not, he had become a player in a grand game where the price of failure was a fate that was worse than death.

This did not scare Rowan, he knew it should, but he had witnessed so many deaths and gone through so much pain, that somewhere in his journey, whether it was the experiences of his many Reflections or the way his mindset had shifted over millions of years of relative isolation, he found out that he was no longer focusing on his end goals as his the reason for him to strive through the uncertainty and the dangers of this road.

Now it was the journey itself that compelled him. He no longer wondered if he was dying today or if the Primordials themselves would arise tomorrow to turn him to ash. The prospect of clashing strengths and wits with his foes as he strived to move higher on the dimensional ladder has now become his principle.

Every moment was to be cherished as if it was to be his last, and if he did not make it to the end. It was enough that he did his best.

®

Existence was now dark, no longer lit up by the glow of the Frozen Road, but as Rowan journeyed through it, something changed. It seemed as if there was a switch that was flipped and then across existence, light began to arise.

They were small, almost minuscule, and he could only see them because his perception was incredibly profound, yet like tiny embers of flames being fed with sufficient fuel, these lights grew and exploded in radiance, and Rowan almost paused in his journey as a rare beauty that few would be lucky to experience in all of existence unfolded before his sight.

Rowan was wrong about the lack of stars at the higher-dimensional level, as he missed the implication that every dimension in reality from a distance was stars themselves, it was only that their glow had been suppressed by the frozen road, and they had never had the chance to display their light into the void.

This light was still fledgling, and Rowan could only see them because of his state as a dimension, but he knew that in a few centuries, many immortals would start to notice that the lights from every dimension were beginning to spread, and in a million years or less, reality would explode with a new radiance that would eclipse what the Frozen Road had given many times over.

Every dimension would become a star that shone brighter than any star had any right to.

Destruction was not always a bad thing, the old needed to be taken out, for something new to be born.

Rowan looked at the blooming light and engraved this lesson in his heart, he should never grow complacent, thinking he had reached the peak, or that the strength of his abilities was enough, he must never be afraid of change, or else he might just miss out on the greatest discoveries of his life.

This statement was extremely prevalent in the next steps Rowan wanted to take with his evolution because he had gained a lot after taking ridiculous risks with the affairs of the World Stele, and now he needed peace and stability for a short while so he could properly digest all of his gains, only then could he now begin his push for the sixth-dimensional level and higher.

He had reduced himself until he was a tiny stream of light that was nearly invisible on all spectrums, both visual and spiritually, and with the unexpected unique benefit of his dimensional flesh and soul, he could cruise through existence as if he was not a part of it, yet despite all of these safety measures, it was nearly not enough.

Far in the distance reality opened up and what he could only describe as an expanse of decaying flesh that was so massive it defied imagination covered reality, even some small dimensions that were unlucky to be on the path of this flesh were assimilated as the First Deceiver looked for the traces of Rowan.

Numerous diseased yellow eyes that reminded him of Thenos sprang from his flesh as Caine scanned through reality.

Joining him and seemingly separating reality in two was a heaven made from serpents as the Mother of Poisons, Shamaran matched the might of Caine, and their gaze, hungry and desperate, looked for their prey, and they soon found him—at least the part of him that Rowan allowed to be found.

On the destitute of a broken dimension, a hazy projection of Rowan appeared, there were barely any energy fluctuations from it, but Shamaran and Caine found it nearly instantaneously, and in the blink of an eye, two figures were standing before the projection.

These two eighth-dimensional beings that were the direct descendants of Primordial Chaos were as different from Ghribba as a Tyrannosaurus rex was from a small lizard.

 Standing here they dominated everything under reality, and now Caine was no longer shielding the full might of his powers from Rowan, and this might echoed throughout time, even an eighth-dimensional immortal would cringe back in shock and apprehension, yet Rowan remained cool and collected, looking at the two children of Chaos with a curious light in his eyes.

“Rowan,” Caine spoke slowly, “You have… grown.”